


Lonely Hearts Club (Eridan Ampora x Kismesis!Female!Reader)

by M15F17_H34R7



Series: Homestuck {Songfics} [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Brief Arasol, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Don't Want To Trigger Anyone, F/M, I Just Write The Things, Minor Kismesissitude, No Idea, Really Freaking Upsetting, sort of angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9419798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M15F17_H34R7/pseuds/M15F17_H34R7
Summary: He can't tell her.She'll leave him, and that's something he won't stand for.





	

She raked her nails down your back, creating a stinging sensation and what you’re sure are somewhat deep scratches. Her laugh was haughty, and she choked on it when you sunk your teeth into her shoulder in retaliation. A high-pitched screech escaped her throat, and then her hands were on your horns. 

You didn’t want to do this to her. You didn’t want to hurt her. You just wanted to love her. Sadly, this is the only way you could. It is a messed up situation that you’re stuck in, and you can’t seem to find a way out.

 

_I go to bed feelin bad_

 

You hiss at the feeling of her soft skin coming in contact with the sensitive nerves hidden inside your horns, almost moaning at the sensation; you don’t dare to though. You’ll never let her know how much you enjoy just being this close to her, even if you have to hurt her to do so.

 

_That I'm the reason that you’re sad_

 

As pathetic as it sounds, you’ve fallen for this equally pathetic excuse of a human. You’re flushed a deeper red that that dead lowblood girl that Sollux murdered. It unnerves you, because this flush crush is not one out of pity, but actual love. 

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. You are such a pushover when it comes to this human. And yet, they’ll never know. You won’t allow her to. 

You know that if you give her even the slightest of hint that you’re red for her, she’ll leave you. She’s already got a matesprit; that poor excuse of a troll named Vriska. You’ll never understand why she’s with the spider-bitch, of all people.

You know what goes on behind closed doors. You’ve seen the bruises on her skin that you’ve yet to leave, the dried, deep crimson that coats her skin. You didn’t cause those, but you know who did. 

You’re convinced that she may feel just the slightest bit of red for you, because she refuses to hurt you as much as she did in the beginning. 

Her grip on your horns lessens, and her hands slide down to clench some of your hair between her fingers. You’re growling; a deep rumble emanating from your chest that seems to unnerve her slightly.  She hisses a few giggles that you sense she was trying to hold back.

You’re lucky your face is hidden in the crook of her neck or she might have seen you smile. 

By the time you finally manage to pull yourself away from her, her neck is damp with her hideous blood color and there  are purple bruises decorating her pale skin. You feel an inch of pride creep up your chest when you see the marks. It makes you feel as if you’ve claimed her as your own; you don’t want to share.

She’s glaring at you like she could burn holes through your skull with just her gaze. You smirk at her and collect your cape from the floor beside her concupiscent platform (she’d ripped it from you earlier when you first walked through the door). 

You try your best to ignore the somewhat sad feeling you’re getting from leaving her alone in her current state.

Just before you exit her sleeping quarters, you cast one more forlorn glance at her out of the corner of your eyes. Instead of glaring after you, like she does most times when you leave without pailing, she’s resigned herself to staring at the floor.  

 

_I feel like if I’m too kind_

 

You don’t want to leave, but kismesissitude states that you have to make your partner keep hating you. But then again, when do you ever listen to the rules?

You’re just about to turn around and run right back to her when you realize something- you’re an idiot.

 

_Then you wwill only change your mind_

 

You realize that if you profess your red feelings for her, she’ll leave you hanging out to dry like dirty laundry. She already has a matesprit, you idiot, you tell yourself, pressing a palm flat against your forehead. How easily are you to forget things. 

The sound of the door closing behind you sends what feels like a knife through your bloodpumper, and you clutch your chest with one hand and clench  the other. You shouldn’t feel like this. You should not leave her like this. 

With another sigh, you open the door to her quarters again. From your position in the doorway, there is no sign of your kismesis.

Maybe she just went to her moirail is get some consolation? Then you remember that she doesn’t have a transportalizer in her quarters. 

Quiet sobs resounded in you ears as soon as you stepped back into the room. Shutting the door behind you, you took another step inside. The sobbing stopped with the sound of the closing door, and a head of (h/c) hair popped up from the other side of the concupiscent platform. 

You barely recognized the female in front of you as your kismesis. If it weren’t for the marks on her shoulder still visible, you wouldn’t have recognized her at all.

Her once smooth, shiny hair was now matted and tangled, and you wondered for a moment if you were the cause of it. Her face was a shade of red you had never seen before, streaked with what you guessed were tears.  

She looked like a shipwreck. 

Something at the back of your mind screams that you should leave right now. She’s your kismesis, and you should not be the one to comfort her in her times of need; that is a strictly red or pale privilege. 

She glares at you again, trying her best to put on a mask of bravery. You can see right through her false bravado (mostly because you tend to do the same thing).

“Get the fuck out of my room.” She hisses, her voice low and threatening.

You don’t make even the slightest move towards the door. Instead, you take a large step towards her, and she cowered back against the metal wall. 

You’re guessing she thinks you’ve come back for more, because although you can see the fear in her eyes, she’s putting her false bravado on again. There is no time that you waste in crossing the room and pulling her into a purely red embrace. 

She stiffens, like you’re planning to hurt her again; but she soon relaxes in your arms, allowing you some form of trust. You wonder if she knows just how red you are for her? Surely she must have some idea by now. 

She starts sobbing, and you hold her against your chest like you’re going to lose her, which is what is most likely what it going to happen after tonight. She’ll abandon you and go crawling back to her abusive matesprit and you won’t be able to stop her at all. 

You should just leave now, and spare yourself the heartbreak in the morning. You sort of want to, but the way she holds you, just like you hold her, you know you can’t leave, and a part of you actually wants you to stay. . 

You direct her towards her concupiscent platform, in which you coax her to lie down, and you lean up against the headboard with your spine aching in protest.

She’s stopped sobbing now, and all that emits from her are quiet sniffling sounds. Your blood pumper is aching now more than ever. 

Her head is in your lap, and you’re rubbing slow circles into her back, trying to lull her into some sense of security so that she’ll hopefully fall unconscious and you can leave quietly without resistance. Hopefully, she’ll think of this as a strange dream, or even better, she won’t remember it at all.   

You think she’s asleep now, but as soon as you make even the slightest notion that you’re going to leave, one of her pale hands reach out from underneath the covers and latch around your wrist. 

You look down at her, with one of your legs hanging off the side of the platform awkwardly. Your eyes are wide with curiosity and surprise. 

“Stay?” She says, but it sounds like she’s begging underneath her false calm demeanor.

 

_Do you wwant to be wwith somebody like me?_

 

You do.

**Author's Note:**

> Original: http://m15f17-h34r7.deviantart.com/art/Lonely-Hearts-Club-Eridan-Ampora-x-Female-Reader-631931280


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